Christmas Eve dawns cool and damp in Dublin as well as in County Wicklow. Assumpta wakens with the light, and stretches gently. Her nausea has been handled by a mid-night alarm and a small bland snack, and she's decided that whether it was early morning sickness or too much excitement, she's not going to chance a return and give up that snack! She rolls onto her side and nudges Peter gently. He wakens as well, with a smile.

"So, no crinks in the neck from sharing a bed these past few days, then?" Assumpta leans forward on one elbow, her face above Peter's.

He reaches up to touch her cheek, his smile widening. "No, feels wonderful, wakin' up next to you! Say, no tummy upset?" His face shifts to concern.

"No, didn't you wake up at all when the alarm rang? I ate some biscuits an' drank some water, and I'm not nauseous at all now."

"That's great, 'Sumpta, I hope it's all smooth sailin' from now on!" Assumpta flops backward, giggling, onto her pillow. Peter takes his turn leaning up on an elbow, looking quizzically at his wife's face.

"Oh, Peter, morning sickness is just the beginning, there'll be swelling, stretch marks, backaches, squashed bladder, all kinds of changes and problems my body's going to go through!"

Peter nods, and again caresses Assumpta's cheek gently. "Well, then, we'll just have to get through it together, won't we?" Assumpta nods as well, and Peter leans further, and kisses her softly. His face lifts away from hers again, and they both smile. "Speakin' of together, we'd better get movin', we're gettin' married again today!" Peter rises and swings his feet over the edge of the bed, Assumpta following suit on her own side. They both head towards the bath, preparing for another exciting day, the second of their three marriages.

Orla and Connor have risen earlier, needing to prepare a breakfast for their single guest before journeying to Dublin for their friends' wedding. Around the breakfast table, while James O'Connor eats, Orla lets him know they are going out for the day, and the pub will be closed, it being essentially a holiday. She gives him the key to the kitchen door, and he discusses the possibility of visiting Aidan for the day, helping with holiday preparations. "After all, it's about time I saw all the work from the other side of the pulpit, right?" He chuckles, and the trio finishes their meal. O'Connor heads back upstairs to get his coat, and Orla and Connor put dishes in the dishwasher, then make sure the front doors are locked, and the signs saying "Closed for Christmas" are in the windows. They leave out the kitchen door, and hop in Connor's car for the trip to Dublin.

"So, he's not a bad chap, from what I can see. Seems a bit old for Maggie, though." Connor's eyes are on the road, but he is taking advantage of the privacy to discuss the tense situation the two of them find themselves in regarding Maggie and James O'Connor.

"No, he seems very nice, but then, how do we know? And he is twelve years older than her, too. Even if she decided to marry him, he's going to leave her a widow again sooner than she deserves. Why should she go through that again, even if she loves him?" Orla crosses her arms across her chest, and leans back into her seat. "I just don't see what she sees in him, maybe when he was alot younger?"

"Hey, not all fellas can be as big and ruggedly handsome as I am, ya know!" Connor answers her, his eyes still on the road.

Orla guffaws, punches him gently in the shoulder, and then leans against him, rubbing her face on his upper arm. "I am a lucky woman, an' I know it, ya big goofball!"

Connor leans his head over for a moment, resting it on top of Orla's silky gold hair. "An' I'm a lucky man." He straightens again, and Orla snuggles closer to him, suddenly content to just be together, and not to worry about anyone else's love lives but their own.

In Scotland, Maggie is just getting up, happy to sleep in every morning. She soon toddles downstairs to join her husband's cousin and wife for a light breakfast. Knowing that the house will soon be in an uproar with arriving family members, they cherish the last quiet they are apt to experience for days, and talk of plans for the evening. Maggie agrees to go with the rest of the family to Midnight Mass, hoping she can take a nap that afternoon so she can stay awake later on.

At the wine bar in Dublin, Peter and Assumpta welcome Sean, Niamh, and Emma, as well as Danny Byrne. Imelda Egan is watching Kieran and young Brian, and will return to enjoy Christmas in Ballykissangel that afternoon. Brendan and Siobhan have brought Aisling, who is thrilled to see her "Uncle" Peter, and asks to be the flower girl. She has brought flowers she herself picked out for herself and for Assumpta, who nearly breaks into tears, but manages to pull herself together and hug Aisling gratefully. Orla and Connor arrive, and the whole group heads out to a magistrate's office for a civil wedding ceremony. The ceremony is brief, and the group then heads to a small restaurant that Peter and Assumpta have grown fond of. Imelda meets them there with the boys, and the entire group has a comfortable lunch. Afterwards, everyone but Orla and Connor head back to Ballykissangel, and the two couples go back to the wine bar.

"Well, maybe it was a bit anticlimatic after the Solstice ceremony, but now it's all legal, an' on the books." Peter Clifford holds onto Assumpta's hand.

"Peter, I wish I knew what the big rush was for, but I am glad it's all formalized, I admit. Now if either of us gets electrocuted, the one left standing doesn't have to pretend disinterest!"

Orla hoots, but Peter's face goes ashen. "Don't you dare say such a thing, I don't ever want to even think of that night ever again!"

Assumpta's face goes remorseful, and she hugs the tall man. "I'm sorry, love, it was a tasteless joke, but it's true, in a way, too, we don't have to hide our feelings at all any more, and our daughter will belong with both of us, and nobody can say different."

Peter heaves a big sigh. "Ah suppose I've got to get over it a bit, too, but, well, the rush I felt was a sort of foreboding, a sense of something deadly dangerous coming, and I wanted to make sure our marriage was official, it just felt really important!"

Assumpta and Orla exchange looks, and Orla speaks, "Peter, you might well be more sensitive than you know, you might have been feeling the showdown between Maggie and O'Connor. It's coming, I don't think she meant to run forever, just to get some distance away, to draw O'Connor to Scotland after her, to protect us."

"Protect you?" Peter looks at Assumpta.

"Especially me, Peter, and our daughter. She won't risk us being drawn into a magical battle, she knows how dangerous that would be for the baby." Assumpta leans against her husband, and lays one hand protectively over her abdomen.

A steely look comes over the Englishman's face. "If James O'Connor does anything to Maggie that harms you our our baby, Assumpta, he'll have alot worse than Maggie to deal with, he'll have me!"

"That's why she's run, Peter, to get him away from us. I just wish Iblis was with her, I'd feel better then." Assumpta sighs, then looks at Orla. "We have to try, Orla, to get her to call us, don't we?"

"Yeah, an' we'd better do it soon, too, so Connor and I can get back to the pub." Orla rises from the chair she's been sitting on, and the four people walk up the stairs to Assumpta's room. The two women lay out a small rug Assumpta pulls out of her closet on the floor, and kneel, facing each other, hands joined. Connor kneels behind Orla and lays his hands on her shoulders, and Peter looks down at Assumpta, who nods. Peter takes an analogous position to Connor Devlin, behind his own wife. Orla and Assumpta begin to drone a soft melody, but Connor and Peter remain silent, simply acting as grounding forces for the two women who seek to reach another spirit with their own. In just under a minute, the two fall silent briefly, then their hands seperate, and their eyes open.

Assumpta leans back against Peter, and Orla turns to Connor. "She'll be calling any minute now." And indeed, in just a few seconds more, the phone on Assumpta's bed table rings. Orla stands to answer it.

"Yes, Maggie, thank the Goddess, we need very much to talk to you!" Orla answers. "No, Assumpta and Peter are here, we're in Dublin. They had their civil wedding today, we all came up for it, but everyone but Connor and I have gone back to BallyK. Yes, Assumpta's fine, but she's starting to have some morning sickness, yes, you can talk to her, here," and Orla hands over the phone.

"Yes, Maggie, I'm fine, not tired at all from contacting you. I'm eating a bite or two mid-night, and not being sick in the mornings, don't worry! Yes, we were scared for you, you must know why we came looking, even after that videotape you left for us. Yes, Orla can tell you the details, here she is." Assumpta hands the phone back.

"Yes, he arrived the morning after you left, sure you'd be waiting for him. Yeah, arrogant bugger, all right! Are you ready for him, do you want us to send him to you? Even without Iblis and us close by?" There is a pause, and Peter, Connor and Assumpta exchange worried looks. Orla speaks again. "Yes, I'm sure Connor and I can shield Assumpta, we can protect her and the baby, if you want to meet him here! You know I'd feel better if you at least had Iblis... Yes, I know you want to sheild him, too, but if you die, how long does he have, anyway?" Another pause, and Orla's face grows both worried and irritated. "Maggie, I wish you'd face him with your friends nearby! We can help, even if we don't participate!" Suddenly Peter Clifford makes a gesture, reaching for the phone, his face set with resolve. Orla tells Maggie, "Hang on, Peter wants to talk to you," and hands over the phone.

"Maggie?" Peter Clifford's voice is clear and strong.

"Yes, Peter?" Maggie sounds tired, but firm as well.

"A very wise young woman once told me, when I was at my lowest, darkest hour, to fight my demons amongst friends. I didn't, and I paid a high cost for that. Please don't make the same mistake I did!" With that, Peter hands the phone back to Orla.

"Maggie, give me your phone number, okay? Yeah, I'll get a paper," and at that Assumpta stands and reaches for a pad and pencil. Orla recites off a number as Maggie tells it to her, and Assumpta writes it down. Orla repeats what Assumpta has written. "Okay, now will you be home tonight, so I can call you when we get back to Fitzgerald's? Yes, I want you to talk to O'Connor, you might well be able to send him packing without even seeing him! No, well, all right, but at least talk to him. All right, when you wake up from your nap, you call us, if you have time, before you go to church with your cousins. Otherwise, I'll call you tomorrow, some time after dinner. Yes, I'm cooking for Aidan and Connor and myself, and since your James is staying in the pub, for him, too. Yes, Maggie, I love you too, here's Assumpta."

"Assumpta?" Maggie's voice is strained.

"Yes, Maggie, yes, I'll take very good care of myself, don't worry, we won't take any risks. Yes, thank you, Maggie, I wish you could have been here today, too! Yes, here's Peter."

"Thanks, Maggie, and Happy Christmas, we'll be seeing you soon!" Peter's voice sounds confident. "Yes, here's Connor."

"Yeah, Maggie, we'll be careful, don't worry, he can't touch us. He seems, really, pretty frail and harmless, I don't think you'll even need us, but you know we'll be there for you if you do, you know that! Yes, we love you too, Maggie, get some rest, we'll talk to you soon!" Connor Devlin hangs up the phone, and turns to Orla. "We'd best be off, it'll be dark sooner than we think." Orla nods.

Assumpta and Peter let their guests out the back door of the wine bar, and then Peter builds a fire in the fireplace downstairs. The two of them fix a simple hot supper and enjoy their silence and privacy as night settles over the big city.

Orla and Connor drive in silence for a while, but then Connor has to comment. "Orla, love, why are you worried about Maggie? Unless that old man has contracted to become an avatar, he doesn't stand a chance against Maggie!"

"I thought so too, at first, Connor, but I'm not so sure, I've never seen what he's like inside a church." Orla pulls her coat tighter around herself as night closes around the car.

"Well, then, we'll just make sure she doesn't meet him in a church, won't we?" The same steely resolve Peter Clifford showed earlier is now clear on Connor Devlin's face as well, both men will not let any harm come to the young women they love. Suddenly Orla begins to giggle. "What?" Connor asks her, suprise sudden in the word.

"I was just picturing Aidan's face if a witches' duel broke out in St. Joseph's!" Orla laughs out loud, joined quickly by Connor, as they drive through the drizzly dark, going home to Ballykissangel.